Dating horror stories

The following are stories sent to me by readers like you that I liked a lot and got permission to post online. Enjoy.

Dating Horror Story #1
Dave from Los Angeles

I meet this girl in a restaurant that my coworker and I go to every morning before work. She's frequently our waitress, and after expressing my interest in her on a few occasions my coworker says, "Shut the fuck up and ask her out." I'm too chicken to do it, but after working up the gumption for like a week, I go down there on my day off, and I see that she's working and I get her attention. She comes over and asks what I want, and I say, "I'm not here for the food today. I wanted to know if
you would like to go out." She smiles, and says, "Sure," and proceeds to give me her number. I'm like, kewl. In like Flynn.

I call her the next week, and we make plans to go out Saturday night. I'm thinking I'll take her out dancing and a few drinks, so I only get 40 bucks for the date because I know how easy it is to spend money when you have it on you. Plus I'm poor. I get to her place, which is actually her parents' place, and she tells me, "I have to go really quick and pay a friend back some money I owe him...but I have to go cash my paycheck to do it. It's going to take some time." I offer to give her a ride, but she says she'll drive herself, it's ok. "But it would be great if you could lend me 20 bucks? I'll pay you back when I go cash my check." I figure she needed some gas money or something, and hand her 20 bucks. No suspicion yet.

So she leaves, and I hang out in her parent's place, which is really just the kind of experience some guy wants before he tries to get into their daughter's pants. They ignore me and watch TV, but the younger sister (who is like 17 and actually much cuter than the girl I'm taking out, which bums me out) asks me to come into her room so I could talk to her. This young girl is trying to tell me how her sister has a bad, bad, bad, bad, baaad problem but she won't tell me what it is. I can't imagine, which sucks in hindsight. I think she was trying to tell me I should leave
immediately, but I was too busy staring at her very lovely tits. Ugh. Too young; too bad.

So my date gets back from her "errand" after leaving me sitting in her parent's apartment for over an hour. She comes in, takes my hand and drags me out the door with a crazed look in her eyes, and says, "Let's GO." I leave with her in my car, and don't know where we're headed. She immediately makes a suggestion. "Get on the 101." I don't know where we're going, but I thought she was going to surprise me with some off-the-map kind of underground place or bar. Within 10 minutes, we're driving through the streets of downtown Los Angeles. I ask her, "Why are we here?", but before I know it, she's opening the passenger door While The Car Is Moving and runs up to people on the street saying, "Are you working? Are you working? Are you working?" and finally she apparently finds someone who is working, and it looks like she hands him MY 20 BUCKS for something and she runs back to my car, opens the door and jumps in. At this point I'm freaking out, yelling at her, "What the fuck are you doing? Did you just buy some drugs?" But at that moment, she's so fucking wacked out she breaks out a crackpipe, fills it with rock, and lights up in my car. I continue yelling, "You are going to get me fucking busted! You can't smoke crack in public!" She somehow realizes I'm right, so she sticks her body down in the floorboard in front of the seat in a little ball and continues to smoke, which by the way smells about as attractive as burning bleach.

I know the date isn't going to happen now, that's for sure. But I don't want to get busted, so I find a little alcove off of Griffith Park where I had been before to make out with girls, but at this point I'm just hoping we don't get any attention. After asking me about 2 or 3 times if I'm "sure I don't want some?", I finally start crying out of actual disgust at my shitty luck with cute girls. Even though I'm obviously crying, she is completely oblivious. I get out of the car and start walking. I tried to figure out what I was doing wrong, but I couldn't see it when I looked at her; she was young and cute, and she didn't look like what I thought a crackhead would look like. I just wanted a normal girl, but somehow I couldn't find one. About 15 minutes passed; then I started to get pissed when I figured out I wasn't going to get my fucking 20 dollars back, ever. You don't give money to a drug addict and expect it back. So I walked back to the car and got in, glancing at her. She had a peaceful expression, not happy but just a lot softer than when I first left with her (I guess she wasn't jonesing anymore). I don't say a word, but start driving, pushing my little Honda very hard. She notices this and quietly asks, "Are you mad at me?" I don't respond. I just keep driving very fast. "I'm sorry, I know I have a problem. I can't help it." While we're driving she's picking at the lint on her seat, I'm guessing just in case she dropped a little piece of goodness, she wouldn't want to leave the poor, lonely, forgotten blighter unsmoked. I didn't want to hear any more of her bullshit, I just wanted to go home. We arrive at her place within a few minutes, and I park and say absolutely nothing. She says some more bullshit which I can't remember because I was so upset, and gets out of the car. But after I start the car, she's at my driver side window, knocking on my window. I reluctantly roll down the window, and she gives me a cute smile and says, "Can I at least have a hug?" I can't believeeeee this girl. I have no idea to this day what the hell I was thinking, but I get out of the car and give her a hug. She actually PUSHES me out of the way, and starts her frantic search for spare rocks on the DRIVER'S SEAT. She is completely fucked out of her head. I then lost it and walked around to the other side, grabbing her crackpipe off the passenger side seat, and walk it out to the driveway, drop it and smash that little fucker to tiny bits with a couple of good stomps. When she sees what I did, that's when the charm really went south for the winter. "What the fuck did you do that for, you fucking bastard??? You fucking dick! How could you just do that, you asshole!" I said, "Don't worry about the 20 bucks. Seeya." I peel away, thinking that that was the worst possible date ever.

Unfortunately my evening wasn't over, because I must have cracked the head gasket when I was revving my car so hard earlier, and my car dies on the street 2 miles from home at 1 o'clock in the morning. I have to push my car into a parking lot, hope it wouldn't get towed and then proceed to walk home, even broker than before, unlaid, miserable. Yes indeed, that one was for the scrapbook. I'm such an insufferably stupid sucker when it comes to a skirt.

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